


Blood is Thicker than Water

by ikuzonos



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dialogue Light, Grief/Mourning, Multi, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 05:59:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9979502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikuzonos/pseuds/ikuzonos
Summary: As the priest chants a sutra, Mukuro fiddles with a stick of unlit incense, and thinks about anything and everything that’s not Junko. It’s easier that way, to wonder about the history exam that will probably be cancelled (because of the funeral) or about the letters she’s gotten from her squadron in Fenrir (offering their condolences) or even about the fact that class 77-B never has to worry about turning into Ultimate Despair (because Junko is dead.)Mukuro attends a funeral.





	

The light rain is both eerily fitting, and stunningly cliche. As Mukuro trods on the sodden grass towards the array of plastic chairs laid out on the turf, she wonders what Junko would think of it. She’d either be delighted at the fact that her own funeral was being ruined, or annoyed because of how common the scenario was.

Mukuro keeps walking.

The chairs are filled up almost all the way, with their classmates, other students, faculty, and of course, members of the media. When a world famous supermodel dies, every news outlet will want coverage of the funeral. That’s only normal, right? Mukuro’s stomach churns at the sight of the cameras, however. It feels disrespectful, but she can’t exactly ask them to leave, now can she?

She flips off every cameraperson who comes in her direction.

She settles down in a damp chair at the end of one of the middle rows. The rain has lessened since she first set out, but it's still enough to make her hair hang heavy. Junko would have laughed at her, had she been there. But after laughing, Junko would have patted her hair dry with a spare cloth, and held a parasol over Mukuro’s head.

Mukuro rubs her eyes. She’s trying so hard not to think about Junko, but considering that her sister is lying ten feet away in a half open coffin, it’ll be pretty hard to forget. The one thing regarding Junko’s death that Mukuro is glad about, is that she can’t really remember it. Junko might not have been a good person, not even to her, but she was still _family._ And the only family that Mukuro has ever had.

If she adjusts how she’s sitting, Mukuro can just see into the coffin. Even in death, Junko’s impossibly large pigtails make her identifiable from nearly a mile away.

(she sees the pigtails swing in the air exactly three and a half seconds before junko collapses on the ground with blood pouring out of her body.)

-

These are the facts: Junko Enoshima is dead, Mukuro Ikusaba witnessed the event, and the two of them were not alone.

Mukuro can’t remember much else besides that, and she’s repeated it on the record multiple times, but a part of her thinks that the police department doesn’t really believe her. Supermodels don’t get shot every day, and they know it.

-

As the priest chants a _sutra,_ Mukuro fiddles with a stick of unlit incense, and thinks about anything and everything that’s not Junko. It’s easier that way, to wonder about the history exam that will probably be cancelled (because of the funeral) or about the letters she’s gotten from her squadron in Fenrir (offering their condolences) or even about the fact that class 77-B never has to worry about turning into Ultimate Despair (because Junko is dead.)

Mukuro twists the edge of her sleeve around. She had to borrow the black kimono that she’s currently wearing, and it doesn’t fit quite right.

Her head and eyes feel heavy, and Mukuro blinks a few times, struggling to stay awake. She hasn’t slept a wink since Junko’s death, and it’s showing. She grips the edge of her seat, and squeezes the wet plastic, but it’s not enough, and only serves to make her hand hurt. Figures that it’s plastic though. Sure, the school will spring for the Kuzuryuu family, but not for her sister, her sister who deserved nothing but also _everything._

(her wound smokes for a second because of the point blank range and mukuro wishes that she could kill the shooter but she’s too busy staring in shock as her sister falls to the ground.)

-

These are the facts: One bullet was fired from point blank range, Mukuro was too late to respond, and the shooter’s hands didn’t shake at all.

The interrogators ask her how she’s certain of the last one, but as much as Mukuro ponders over it, she can’t figure out why. Nobody would want to kill Junko, not yet. To the rest of the world, she was an exceptionally talented model, and someone _real_ among a sea of identical carbon copies.

(Never mind that the personality Junko showed to the world was just as fake as the colour of her hair.)

-

After the main ceremony ends, Mukuro slowly rises from her seats, and makes her way down the crooked aisle. She approaches the coffin, flowers in hand, and gently tucks them around Junko’s head. Even in death, she manages to look beautiful, with just a dash of makeup, and the hint of a smile on her lips. Her hands are neatly folded on top of her white kimono, but she doesn’t look asleep, not in the slightest.

She steps away from the coffin, waiting for tears to run down her face, but she’s done nothing but cry during the long, lonely nights, and now she can’t force herself to fake it.

Mukuro registers a tight hug around the shoulders about five seconds too late. She freezes in place, and the tension in her body doesn’t drop even after she no longer has another person’s hands on her.

“You doing okay, Ikusaba?”

The ridiculous question comes from Leon. Of course she’s not okay, her sister is _dead_ but Mukuro knows that he means well. It doesn’t stop her stomach from churning, however, in fact it makes her feel worse.

“I don’t know,” Mukuro croaks, and Leon places a hand on her shoulder. She would shove him away if she had the energy to do so, but every part of her just feels drained.

Leon says gently, “I know it’s hard now. I promise that things are going to get better from you.”

Mukuro wants to spit at him, wants to scream at her best friends because _what does_ **_he_ ** _know!?_ And he probably knows a lot more than she’s giving him credit for, but all Mukuro wants to do is get out of this conversation as soon as she can.

(she has to get out get out of this room because blood is thicker than water blood is so thick and it bubbles why does it bubble why is junko not breathing.)

-

These are the facts: The room was dark, none of the bystanders moved to help, and there were no prints on the gun.

This gets a few eyebrows raised at her, because nobody ever mentioned the lack of prints. Mukuro stumbles for a moment, but she really doesn’t know. Everything is a disjointed mess, and no matter how hard she tries to remember the event, her mind continues to block it out.

-

The rain begins coming down again after the coffin is closed. Mukuro stands out in it, staring at the plain coffin, unable to move. She’s drenched from head to toe at this point, but she doesn’t really care. It’s not her kimono being ruined.

Suddenly, despite the sound of rain slapping against the ground still, it stops. She looks up to see a red umbrella overhead, then to her left to see Sayaka. The blue haired girl looks solemn and stolid, as she stares right back at the coffin with a heavy expression.

Sayaka and Junko used to hang out a bit, and Mukuro knew that the idol believed that the two of them has formed a close friendship.

Junko had hated Sayaka.

Silently, Sayaka slips her hand into Mukuro’s, awkwardly shifting her umbrella so that it still covers them both. Under her breath, she whispers, “I’m here if you need me.”

Her voice is raw and her words come from the heart. No false promises, no assumptions, just a statement. Sayaka Maizono is a girl who has experienced heavy loss, and truly means the few words she has said.

Her empathy and compassion are so genuine that they make Mukuro wish that she deserved it.

(she’s never deserved anything before not once because tools don’t deserve good things but this isn’t fair tools shouldn’t have to watch their masters break.)

-

Mukuro goes home early, not wanting to witness the burial process. Junko had always said that her body was going into the ground when she died, and no moron could ever convince her to get cremated.

She pushes past anyone who tries to get in her way, from media, to classmates, to a redheaded girl whose name that she knows, but Mukuro would deny it for the rest of her life.

It isn’t until she gets into her room that it hits her. She has nothing and no one, now that Junko is dead. Junko was her entire world, and she’s lying in a coffin seven feet underground. She was a tool, a broken and rusty tool, and now she has melted down into scrap metal.

Mukuro stumbles, then falls to the ground, but doesn’t bother to move. Nobody’s going to come looking for her, not anymore, right?

-

The old school building smells like dust and ashes. Mukuro stares Kotomi Ikuta in the eye, as the redhead challenges her authority. Junko had ordered her to kill anyone who opposed them, and her hand goes for the gun, but instead, she throws a knife violently at the wall. It barely misses the top of Ikuta’s head.

The quivering girl sits back down in her seat amongst the rest of the frightened student council. The door is kicked open seconds after by Junko, who pushes in enough weapons and motives to feed an army. She smiles so brightly and effortlessly, and Mukuro’s hand twitches. The gun is still just out of her reach.

She doesn’t know what makes her pull the trigger - it could be years of constant abuse or the threat of what is still to come - but Mukuro still fires the gun, and her hands don’t shake at all.

Junko sways, her eyes wide, as the wound in her chest smokes, and blood bubbles out of it. She hits the ground with a deafening clamour, and silence falls over the room.

“You’re free to go,” she says, “But if any of you breath a word of this, I will personally hunt you down and kill you myself.”

The students shuffle out one by one and Izuru follows. It isn’t until Mukuro stands alone in the classroom that the blood finally reaches her nostrils, and she realizes what she’s done.

The gun hits the ground as Mukuro rushes over to where Junko is lying, still and cold. She grabs her sister’s corpse and shakes her, but to no avail. Mukuro spent years in Fenrir learning how to kill with just one bullet.

Blood covers her hands and knees as tears burst from her eyes and run down her face, splattering on Junko’s torso.

“I had to,” she hisses in-between sobs, “You know that the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb. I couldn’t let you hurt all of them, not these people, not our upperclassmen, not my _friends!_ You know I _had_ to!”

Junko’s corpse doesn’t answer her.

-

These are the facts: Junko Enoshima is dead, Mukuro Ikusaba killed her, and she got away with it scot-free.

(but she will never be able to close her eyes without seeing her sister fall to the ground, so who’s the real winner here?)


End file.
